


Way of the Nomad

by Darkest_Day



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, But Cayde wanted to hog the bed, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Shower Sex, The Void, it's almost a threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 00:37:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15182879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkest_Day/pseuds/Darkest_Day
Summary: Even an expert like Tevis Larsen will find himself struggling against the Void he wields. He's never going to admit it, but sometimes a man just needs a safe place to sleep.





	Way of the Nomad

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Katargo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katargo/gifts).



The apartment is cool and dark when he opens the door, there's a little bit of light coming in from the windows but it's barely enough to brighten the room. He wouldn't have pegged himself as a man who enjoyed the same view every single day until now, now that he had it he had come to enjoy the repetitive peace of it. The sky isn't quite streaked with red and gold but it's a close thing. A few more minutes and orange will flood the barren room and it will feel like something close to home. Though some days he still did miss the way the sun sets over the ocean or the way it sets across fields flat as far as he can see, even the way it sets through misty towering trees. When did he become such a romantic?

It takes a few moments to notice that the dark curtains are fluttering due to a window he hadn't left open. It takes a second longer to notice the dark shape occupying most of the couch. Suddenly on edge, he thumbs the knife at his hip. Then lets go, relaxing, it's only Tevis. 

Not that he has any idea why the Nightstalker is here. He knows he doesn't spend a lot of time in the City, much less show up randomly on his couch. Andal sighs, casting a hand through his hair in the same motion as he pulls the hood from his head. With no real threat to worry about he goes about his evening duties. He only has an hour before the meeting, they just got word a fireteam is on their way back from Venus and he's got to be there for it. 

The room is mostly open with maybe a little too much space for someone like him. He spent a long time not caring about possessions beyond what he needed, now that he has shelves and cupboards it's a struggle to fill them. Sometimes it just makes him think of all those little treasures he found out there that might have had a home here. It doesn't matter, they're long gone and he can't even remember them all. A couple hundred years does that to a man and no amount of meditation or thinking will change that. He's not Cayde, he doesn't keep a journal and doesn't think he would like something like that laying around. He ignores the other Hunter, for now, carefully getting the coffee ready and checking to see if he has anything to eat. He really needs to start cooking more, he will lose his touch if he keeps letting Cayde convince him to go out with him. 

He glances back at the sleeping form, studying his slow breathing and the way his cloak hangs onto the wood floors. It's a strange thing to see, the Tevis he knew would keep it close to him, not quite wrapped around him but tucked into his belt or under his arm at the least. He pours the coffee and experimentally drops the spoon into the sink where it clatters noisily in the dark room.

The Hunter doesn't budge, which has him suddenly wondering if he might be dead. The Tevis he knew would wake at the slightest noise, even before Andal would. With the cup in his hands, he strides over to the man, peering at him as he softly snores away. He brushes a stray strand of hair from his face and the only response is a soft noise of protest. With a sigh, he opens one of the closets and shifts through old furs and cloaks he remembers fondly before finding a blanket. Tevis would recognize this one, they spent many nights in the cold up north watching the lights that glittered in ribbons in the sky. He carries the blanket over to his old teammate and lays it over him, he leaves the window open and rejoins his mug and takes a seat on the stool. 

An hour later he leaves, dropping a few cigarettes on the coffee table in case he wakes. While Tevis does know better than to smoke in here, he expects he's going to do what he damn well pleases regardless of what Andal thinks.

He heads to the meeting and makes himself more coffee in the corner, taking his damn time to finish preparing it. The room is still abuzz with chatter so no one misses him yet, the fireteam isn't here either. He slides in beside Saint and nudges him with his elbow - then sidesteps away to avoid the returned action. Getting into a match of elbows with a Titan isn't a good idea. Ever. But he's grinning and slides back beside him, watching as the room quiets and Gallida and her team enter. The doors close behind them and her Ghost transmats a rather large collection of Vex.. things. Weapons, body parts, samples. He catches the Warlock's gaze and she smirks at him with this devilish glint in her eye.

For a Warlock, Gallida's attitude is remarkably Hunter-like.

The weapons cause a ruckus amongst the Consensus. Andal sighs and downs the last of the coffee before quietly asking Saint if he wants some too. The Exo takes the helmet off his head and the two of them walk over to the pot while the rest of the group fuss noisily. This is going to take a very long time, so Andal empties a good amount of liquor from the flask into the paper cup. "If you're not sharing," Saint starts, "I'll tell the Speaker you're drinking on the job."

Andal responds by rolling his eyes and passing the flask to him, "you are a child, I hope you know that." He teases, grinning despite his feigned exasperation, he hides the flask away again and they turn to start dealing with the situation at hand.

The sun is just beginning to rise by the time he makes his way back to his room, weary and definitely not drunk enough to have handled all of the last few hours. He doesn't even bother checking the couch while he refills the flask over the sink and takes a mouthful straight from the bottle and chases it with cold bitter coffee. Disgusting, but he's had worse. When he does get around to checking the couch Tevis is still there, but he's curled himself into a ball with his back facing the rest of the room. The blankets are tucked over his head, now he's concerned. When he walks over the man isn't shaking, he's not actively fighting anything. But the hand that grips the blanket tells him he has been. There's blood under his nails and he's gripping the fabric tight. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't here." He mutters to him as he squats down beside him. He knows these signs, he knows what the Void looks like. He places his hand on the Nightstalker's back kindly, he can't do anything to help him now, not when the storm has already rolled through. He leaves the door open when he lays down in bed, lost in thought. In here, it's easy to resist the Call. Out there it isn't, it can eat away at a man if he isn't careful. He knows Tevis. When he picked up that Bow he didn't know what it was. He didn't know how it would eat at him, he fought it on his own terms in his own ways. 

Perhaps that's why Tevis chose to come here to sleep, maybe the dimly lit apartment feels safe. Maybe it's just Andal who feels safe, but somehow he doesn't think it goes that deep. 

When he wakes up, hours later, he can still smell the remains of smoke. There's ash on the table and three crumbled ends of paper and tobacco. He left him five. The blanket was folded, not very well, over the armrest and the window was still open. He sighs to himself and goes to clean the mess. While the same can't be said for all Hunter's, Andal is neat. Neat enough, anyway. Neat enough to sweep the ash into his palm and rinse it in the sink, sighing to himself as he leans his hip against the counter. 

He doesn't see Tevis for a few weeks. Andal doesn't catch him come in but he does leave him cigarettes and that blanket again. It keeps happening and each time he's gone by the time Andal comes back. It kills him to see the struggle plain to see even in just his hands. He's always asleep when he comes home, he's always gone before Andal can catch him awake. A friend is struggling and here he is, not even able to help him properly. 

Until he comes in after a long overnight shift and Tevis is in his bed. This warrants a grumble from him, rubbing his tired eyes and shrugging the cloak off his shoulders and over a chair. The bathroom door is open and there's a towel draped across the sink, pieces of the Hunter's gear is gathered in a heap on the floor next to the bed. "Really making yourself at home" he sighs to himself, changing into something somewhat conservative to sleep in. This is his bed and he's not leaving just because someone else happens to occupy it.

When he climbs in he realizes something is very wrong. Tevis has his fingers clutching at his arms with bloody trails crisscrossing his skin, his body shaking under the weight of his monsters. He can feel the Void radiating from him, he's ashamed he didn't feel it until now. "Fuck" he hisses as he shuffles closer, carefully focusing on his own connection to the endless deep. Calm and careful, it's how his feels after all those years of training it. So he puts that at the front of his mind as he settles in front of him. This action isn't new, they've done this before. Hunters he taught the Bow sometimes needed _help_ like this _._ He presses his forehead against Tevis's sweat-slicked one, one hand clasping his to try to get that grip to loosen.

A hand snaps up to his arm and the pain is sharp as his blunt nails bite into his skin. But his friend makes this low wounded noise as he tries to chase off his demons, so he doesn't pry his hand away. He knows he's conscious, every time he tries to loosen his grip he just ends up tightening it again. Andal closes his eyes and concentrates on the Void, on the calm serene way he handles it. There are scratch marks on his arm. Andal remains beside him and knows the storm has passed as Tevis finally relaxes his hand and his arm wraps around his middle. His own head spins from teetering so close between that loss of control and grabbing a hold of it. Its exhausting, Tevis ducks his head away from Andal's and exhales a long breath of relief. Andal, drained, sleeps.

He wakes up to Tevis smoking on the couch, his bare arms are littered with healing scratches and Andal has a few scratches of his own to match. He smokes while he wraps his fingers with fresh fabric tape.

"I've told you not to smoke in here." He says fondly.

"Made you coffee," he says, his voice is rough and tight like he hasn't spoken much lately. He can see the shadows under his teal-grey eyes, his unshaven face, he looks like a mess.

Andal returns with a mug and sits down next to him, when he passes the roll to him he takes it without thinking. For a moment they're back in the Wilds in front of a fire, but it's early afternoon and they're sitting on a couch that's actually comfortable instead of the ground or a log. 

"Before you ask, I'm fine." Andal just looks at him. After a pause he almost glares and says, "fine, I will be fine. Better?"

Tevis snatches the cigarette from his lips and grumbles a couple curse words under his breath. "C'mon, you know me." And Andal does know him, he knows he's faced worse than this. 

That makes him relent, he sits back and lights another, he has a few hours before he has to get back to it. Seeing Tevis relaxed like this is nice, he isn't often at ease. At least, he wasn't, not when they were out there together. It seemed that Andal was deemed safe, safer than the Wilds and safe from his inner battles. It was kind of a warm feeling, but he wouldn't dare tease him about it. If he did, Tevis might not come around very often. And it's kind of nice to have him around, that's not even considering that Tevis might need this again. 

He leaves through the actual door when he goes, Andal runs his fingers over the scabs beginning to form before getting dressed. It's a small price to pay for a friend.

Tevis doesn't come by for a while after that. He still gets the occasional report from him here and there, so he knows he's okay. They were in different worlds, now. Andal has the cushy desk job. Not that it was easy, not by any means. It was just different, fewer risks and less real danger but in some ways more difficult. Out in the Wilds it was just him and a gun and a Ghost and a fight for his life. And _fun._ Out there the only rules were the ones that they made for themselves. Part of him missed the lawlessness of the Dark Ages, back when the City was little more than a rumour. Back when he was in his prime, back when he was the source of rumours. Now he just tuned them all out. 

The Ghost hanging over his shoulder nudges herself into his hood, he adjusts the fabric and moves away from the back window that overlooked the City below and got back to work.

* * *

 

“Drinks. Tonight.” Cayde says, slinging his heavy arm over Andal's shoulders. He grunts and elbows him off, but Cayde is remarkably strong and keeps his arm right where it is. “Tevis is back in the City too, it'll be like old times.”

“So you'll crack some bad jokes and I'll have to put you and Tevis in time out?” He teases, Cayde sighs dramatically.

“Just like old times,” he lets go of the Vanguard and walks backwards away from him, one hand waving about in front of him. “We better see you there.”

Andal can't help it, later as the sun begins to set after all his work was done he thumbs through the cloaks on the hangars. There are so many here, it was all he kept from his travels. They're the only items in this barren apartment that holds some memories. There was one to blend in no matter where he went, no matter what the terrain was. And one, in particular, that meant more than the rest. It was the one he wore in his prime when he travelled alone, the one that he became  _known_ by. The one that he wore when he was truly free. He's been itching for that feeling again lately, it's a hard one to ignore. 

The cloth is heavy as he winds it around himself, the furs are thick and silky to the touch. It's draped over his chest and down his back and one side, the furs gather around his shoulders. He used to joke that Shaxx copied his style, but that one did _not_ end well. He leaves the Tower and walks through the City, he knows the place Cayde means. None of them have to say it, they just know. It became their haunts years ago when the City was building from the ground up. It's far from here but it's just the place for a pack of Hunter's like them. He yearns to leave with them, pretend they're still lawless and reckless and that death and misery are only a dream. 

As he opens the door, he knows those days are over. There's a look about Hunters in the City, it's distinct but it's there, he's seen it in them when they stick around too long. When his old fireteam spies him where they sit at the back of the bar they wolf-whistle at him, he carefully keeps his expression calm as he slides into the stool between them. Tevis claps a heavy hand on his back and Cayde shoots his arm into the air to order another round.

They're back in the old days, back in their old ways. Talking shit and drinking under the haze of a dimly lit bar, talking in threats and insults that contain every ounce of trust for each other. But then things change, the conversation drifts to more recent times. Cayde's escapades on Venus, his tangles with the Vex, even his trips up to the moon to contemplate the universe from one little rock hanging in the nothing. Tevis sharing his stories of struggle and pain, all the danger he faces that he brings upon himself to prove to himself that he's still the best Nightstalker they've got. His cocksure grin and his tales on Tethys. 

Andal doesn't have stories anymore. His only stories are about mundane meetings that drag for hours, coffee brewed with the leftovers of last night's coffee and that shot of liquor to take the edge off. Too much sugar and not enough cream out there to make it drinkable. He takes it like a shot. He can't share his stories, he doesn't leave this place anymore. What is a Hunter without his stories? The details matter less than those who tell it; Hunters are storytellers.

And Andal Brask is all out of stories.

The trio walks out of the bar together, Andal and Tevis hang behind and Cayde swings about ahead of them. It's late summer and the air is cool, the Traveler is bright above their heads. Tevis looks content, last he saw him he was being pulled towards the edge of the Void. In a lot of ways, Tevis is a better Nightstalker than Andal could ever be. Tevis learned through hardship, he learned alone. Andal was taught, he learned how. Tevis was made of tougher material than he was, his hands were calloused and Andal's hands had long grown soft. No amount of time at the range would change it. 

As much as an idiot as Cayde could be, albeit a lovable one, he was the best scout he had. The best man for almost every job. Suddenly it felt all too exhausting, walking with two seasoned Hunters he should be out there with. Not trapped here behind these walls. He's lost in thought when he catches Cayde saying something about being sure Andal has more.. something. He frowns.

“Excuse me?”

“More space, you nut. We're coming home with you.”

“You are?”

“Right-o, Tevis, cut him off! He's had too much.” Tevis matches Andal's scoff with his own,

“That might be you, mate.” Tevis grumbles, “I'll muzzle you if you don't turn it down a notch.”

The arrival at the Tower has both Hunter's piling into the room after he opens the door, Tevis is already taking off his cloak and wandering to one of the empty shelves and setting a handful of small items there. Andal pays it no mind, Tevis will do whatever he wants to do, regardless of what Andal thinks. Sourly, he does think that he's at least good for a place to crash. Cayde is suddenly behind him, entirely too touchy and attempting to drape himself over Andal's back.

“Why are you wet?” He asks, confused, Cayde just makes an amused noise that makes his mouth glow.

“Wouldn't you like to know?” He teases, “might have got into a fight with that glass of water by your bed though.”

Tevis barks out a laugh from the couch where he's hauling his boots off his feet. “Go to bed, Cayde, before you decide that the mattress is trying to gut you.”

“Hey, it could!” The Exo slides away from him, Andal turns to watch the pair. He's fond but.. sour. He misses those days, it feels like they've all grown older. Like the Dark Ages they were just kids fighting their way through and now they've settled into their adult lives. 

“Don't give him any ideas, Tev,” he replies smoothly, not betraying any of the conflicting thoughts in his head. 

“Whose side are you on anyway?” It sounds like Cayde's pouting, the plates of his face are pulled into a pitiful look.

“The mattress.” Tevis agrees with him before he finishes the word 'mattress'.

When he finally wrangles Cayde into bed, Andal joins Tevis on the couch and looks out over the sparsely decorated room. “You okay?” He asks, finally, breaking their comfortable silence. Tevis hauls his feet up onto the coffee table, his belt hangs over the armrest. He ponders the question for a minute before finally settling on an answer. 

“I've been better.” He responds, eyeing him.”You know the deal, we all get too deep sometimes.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

The man offers him a thin smile. “You know I am, don't be daft.”

Andal pats his arm. Tevis makes a small noise in reply, he isn't sure what to make of it. Before he has a chance to contemplate it the man is sitting up a little bit. “Ah, fuck, c'mere.” He mumbles, one hand is grabbing a fistful of his scarf and pulling him close. His lips are dry and chapped and press against his easily. He parts for the briefest of moments before coming back to kiss him again at a slightly new angle, it takes a few rotations of the gentle kiss before it deepens. A swipe of tongue against Andal's lip, next time they come back Andal meets his in the middle. Tevis drops his legs from the coffee table to turn towards him more, pressing more intently. He stars pushing Tevis back into the couch, adjusting their position, each time their lips meet it takes them a little bit further.

Footsteps from behind them cause them to pull away, Cayde shuffles across the room and Tevis just shrugs. He pulls Andal close for one more long kiss before he stands, stretching his arms above his head lazily as he begins to loudly tell the Exo off. Andal watches them for a moment, the two of them fussing over something in the kitchen. Feeling content, he doesn't care what they're going on about and makes his way to his room without them. The other two Hunters join him. They've shared beds before so it's nothing new to any of them. However, but kissing one of them is. It's crowded with three but it's comfortable, as much as he likes to make it seem like he isn't keen on contact to anyone who gets too close to him he really does enjoy being close to those he cares about. 

He wakes up in the morning with Cayde's horn digging into his back and Tevis tucked under his arm. His squirming to dislodge the Exo rouses Tevis, who distracts him by cupping the back of his neck and kissing him. The angle is weird and their noses are mutually squished against cheeks, but it's good. It's so good he forgets there's a horn nuzzling into his shoulder blade. 

“I need a shower,” Tevis says to him, his voice a little rough. It's early and the room is still sunrise blue. “Join me?”

Andal kisses him again, then nods, they leave Cayde where he can happily hog the entire bed alone. Once the washroom door is closed Tevis is pulling him close again and Andal pins him against the wall. He kisses him nice and slow, undressing each other piece by piece. Andal letting his fingertips examine the scars he uncovers, Tevis's fingers are rough and they press against all the scars Andal has too. The edges of the tape on his fingers are rough and fraying but he makes no effort to remove them. 

He drops his head down to his throat, scraping his lips against the stubble on his jaw as he does. He tastes like the road, like sweat and dust and years of hardship. None of their lives have been easy. Andal runs the water and when they step in it's too hot and too much but he grabs the soap and cleans the places he wants to put his mouth. “C'mon,” the man breathes, his hands clutching at the taller Hunter. 

It doesn't take any convincing to push Tevis face-first against the wall, the Nightstalker just hums a soft noise as Andal drags soapy hands down his back, enjoying the way the suds streak over his skin and how his hands look splayed over his lower back. He rests his forehead against the wall next to his head, it's not the best position to properly kiss him but it's manageable. He kisses him as deep as he can as his hand finds his ass and takes some time to fondle the curve of it. Tevis arches his back a little and spreads his legs to make this easier as he dips slick fingers between his cheeks.

Soap is probably not the best lubricant to be using right now, but with limited resources it'll have to do. Tevis doesn't seem to mind with the way he keeps exhaling these little pleased noises. It's been done before and it'll happen again, if there's a next time he's going to make sure there's something much more suitable.

Besides, it's been an awfully long time since he's gotten off with anyone. He really doesn't think it's going to take long enough to be an issue.

He fondles the area for a moment, fingers slicking up the space first. He's working quickly, prodding at the pucker of skin clumsily, his finger slips in and Tevis inhales deeply. His cheek is pressed against the wall and Andal's forehead already aches as he leans in to kiss him again. The hot water trails down his back and it's cold where the water isn't, none of it matters. Tevis's body accepts another finger eagerly. He's kept himself from rutting up against him so far, soon he won't have to resist. 

Andal withdraws his hand and runs fingertips down his partner's back to gather more suds. Once he has enough he takes ahold of his cock and tries to get as much soap onto it as he can. He doesn't even know if this is going to work as well as he thinks it will. He spares a moment of tenderness to kiss his shoulder, he can catch Tevis grinning out of the corner of his eye. 

With clumsy hands he presses his fingers into him again before guiding the head of his cock along the palm of his hand. It's a slightly awkward angle, Andal is a little too tall and it takes spreading his legs a little and angling his hips just right to make it work. “Oh, there we go,” Tevis hums as he breaches him, moving his hand up along the tile until he finds where the other Hunter has his palm flat to keep himself braced. He pins his hand under his own, fingers interlocking without holding on.

Andal exhales, eyes fluttering shut. It's almost too good to be doing this again. It doesn't feel right to sleep with anyone who comes to him as a Vanguard, and while he doesn't mind his workmates none of them really do it for him. That and, well, Andal's always had a preference for Hunter's. And Tevis is as _Hunter_ as they come. 

Tevis pushes back against him with every little push until Andal starts thrusting a little harder, hard enough to echo in the little room. The soap is holding up and the slippery slide of their bodies together just drags more soap down his ass. Water trickling down his chest, Tevis's fingers flexing against the wall where it's pinned and his other hand sliding helplessly against the wall. All while making these little noises that Andal is very much enjoying. 

It's hard to kiss him like this, he's a little too focused on fucking him. But somehow they manage it, open-mouthed and messy. His thighs are trembling from the effort of thrusting like this, his calves ache from the position, he's at risk of slipping and this whole thing going to shit. It's by some miracle that he's able to stay upright long enough to finish. 

He comes with a grunt, hips stuttering against his ass, devolving into weak little thrusts as he rides through his climax. When he pulls out he pulls his spend with him, and he leans back enough to watch it leak out him and drip down his thighs. It's deliciously obscene. Forcefully, he turns Tevis over and kisses him hard, then begins to ease himself down to his knees. His thighs burn from the exertion, it takes some effort to get comfortable before he gives up on that and takes Tevis into his mouth. The water begins to pour over his face as he bobs his head and he almost breaks his concentration enough to laugh at the absurdity of drowning while sucking dick in the shower. 

Tevis grabs him by the hair and doesn't take it easy on him, his back flat against the wall and directing the Vanguard's head between his legs. Thankfully it doesn't take long, he's short on air and he's so out of practice that his jaw aches far too quickly. Tevis curses when he finishes, all of it hissed under his breath like he's trying to keep it quiet. It's thick and doesn't taste very good and some of it leaks from the corners of his lips but he swallows what he can before pulling away, wiping it from his chin as he stumbles back to his feet. Tevis has this content look in his eyes, Andal rests his possibly bruised forehead against his and leans against him, exhausted. They breathe heavily for a few long moments, he can feel the other's pulse beating just under his skin. The pace matches his own. 

Cayde's on the couch when they finally extract themselves from the hot water, “you owe me.” He says cheerfully. Tevis tries to reach for the blade on his hip but he isn't even wearing his belt.

“Like hell you do.” He says as he fumbles though Andal's things for a cigarette.

“Uh, yeah, I could have interrupted. Y'know, got me some blackmail.”

“I will have you thrown from the Tower.” Andal says pleasantly, batting Tevis's hands away from where he keeps the cigarettes so Andal fish a few out instead. The pair of them lean against the window and let their hands hang out of it. They talk a little more shit and before too long it's time to resume their normal lives. Cayde goes first, humming to himself cheerfully. Tevis has taped a 'kick me' sign to his back and Andal is convinced he has the maturity of a twelve-year-old. Tevis stays behind, though, casting his eyes up and down his body. Andal has some time before it's his turn to get back to the mundane, he isn't sure what Tevis is planning but he's ready for another round. 

“Don't think this means you're getting special treatment from me.” He warns as they close the distance between each other, Tevis just smirks at him.

“You already give me special treatment, y'know.”

“Wait,” Andal starts, shocked, halted in his tracks. “Are you actually being sappy on me?”

“What? No. Fuck off, you've always played favourites and me 'n Cayde were always part of it. Don't get ahead of yourself.” At Andal's probably pained expression, he turns to a grin. “I'd damn well hope so, though, the three of us? We've been through too much together to accept anything less.”

Andal just pulls the Nightstalker close to him and kisses him briefly before dipping his head to trail kisses down the side of his throat. “You're making it awfully hard to leave,” the man sighs, his hands are already finding their way under Andal's shirt. 

“We've got time.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Ah! 
> 
> Katargo had these great ideas that Tevis would come crash on Andal's couch because it was the only place he felt safe enough to do so. Then it had to be written.


End file.
